


Healing

by Sincerely_Sierra



Category: American Horror Story, American Horror Story: Apocalypse, American Horror Story: Coven
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, F/F, Nightmares, PTSD, self-deprecation, self-hate
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-05
Updated: 2019-03-05
Packaged: 2019-11-12 08:07:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18007085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sincerely_Sierra/pseuds/Sincerely_Sierra
Summary: Madison returns from hell sickly and angry at the world. Slowly, she heals.





	Healing

**Author's Note:**

> It’s been forever since I’ve written anything. My 18th birthday was on February 22nd and I got my drivers permit, so I’ve been spending a lot of time practicing, on top of working.
> 
> I’ve been writing this piece for a week. I truly think Madison deserved better in Apocalypse. I wrote this to show the aftermath of her being in hell and the toll it took on her. I was going for something bittersweet, so here you go.
> 
> —Sincerely, Sierra

Nothing has changed in a physical sense since Madison returned from the underworld. Plucked from her personal and abusive hell by none other than Mallory, Madison feels cold. Contrary to popular belief, her hell was not hot, but the real world—earth—is somehow so much colder the fourth time around. And it hurts a lot more, for some reason. 

 

It seems everything shape-shifted by the time she returned ill and shattered along the edges. Misty is here now, and Madison knows it was due in part to the witch who “saved” her from hell. Zoe grew. Her hair is longer and her face is mature. She always smiles at Madison when they cross paths, but Madison is too tired to return it. Kyle is dead; burned at the stake for killing her a couple years back. And Cordelia. Well, she’s still Supreme and as powerful as ever.

 

Life goes on. Slowly but surely, it goes on, and Madison hates watching the world pass her by when she feels so detached from it. She watches her sister witches work in harmony without her, learning and laughing together. They seem to have inside jokes she’s not allowed in on, and they have classes Cordelia won’t put her in. All she’s allowed to do is eat and sleep, and even that is a challenge.

 

She rooms with Zoe. Another thing that disguises the fact that she was in hell only a week ago. Cordelia probably did it to make Madison feel as if nothing happened to her, as if she’s been alive this entire time and nothing is off balance. What a lie, but whatever helps the Supreme sleep at night.

 

Day nine of her return takes a toll on the former star’s body. She spends the wee hours of the morning with her head in the toilet, puking her guts out, but it’s clear and thin. Only water and bile. She’s not had anything solid to eat for three days.

 

Zoe wakes to the sound of the toilet flushing, and rolls over in her otherwise empty bed to grab her phone. 5:47 am. Peeking over at Madison’s bed, she gets up and slides her slippers over her feet before walking to the bathroom. The bright light causes her to squint as her soft doe eyes attempt to adjust.

 

“Madison?” the younger witch asks as she gently knocks on the ajar door with one knuckle. “What’s wrong?”

 

“What does it fucking look like?” Madison snaps as she wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. “I’m puking.”

 

“Do you feel sick?”

 

“Of course I feel sick! I’m here barfing my guts out! Sure, I feel wonderful!” Even green in the face, Madison still manages to be a sarcastic asshole to Zoe, but the latter does not flinch.

 

“Let me go get Cordelia,” Zoe says, turning to go downstairs.

 

Whatever color was left in Madison’s face completely fades away. She shakes her head and rubs the tears from her eyes. She can’t cry, not in front of Zoe. She’s already so vulnerable. She is weak and sleepy and just wants some solitude for the time being. Is that too much to ask?

 

“No! I don’t want anyone helping me. Just go back to bed and forget about it!” Madison barks before dry-heaving into the toilet again.

 

“Madison, please—“

 

“I said go! Now!”

 

Concern flashes across Zoe’s face for a second, but she quickly backtracks out of the room and closes the door. She gets back into bed, but she doesn’t stop thinking about Madison. Not for a nanosecond. The last thing she sees in her mind before she falls back to sleep is Madison’s sickly face and the dark circles of grief lingering beneath her eyes.

 

+++

 

Cordelia is slicing a bagel at the kitchen island when Zoe comes downstairs. Most of the witches eat their breakfast in the dining room, as there’s no space for all of them at the breakfast table, but Zoe is still accustomed to the kitchen, so that’s where she eats every morning.

 

The Supreme glances at her young witch, and smiles in greeting at her, continuing to fix herself a small breakfast. The smell of eggs and toast wafts across the room, and Zoe realizes why Cordelia is not eating; she’s become allergic to eggs. Zoe isn’t a fan, either, so she unwraps a toaster pastry and pops it into the toaster as she leans against the counter and yawns.

 

“You look tired,” Cordelia points out.

 

“I didn’t really sleep much after Madison woke me up. I was too worried about her being sick,” Zoe replies without thinking much of anything. “I slept pretty off and on after that.”

 

A deep frown presses across Cordelia’s mouth, and she sets her plate down at the table. Zoe pretends she doesn’t see the fussy expression on her face. She turns to the hot toaster and waits for it to burst.

 

“She was sick last night?” Cordelia questions.

 

“Yeah. She was vomiting early this morning. I told her I would get you, but she told me to go back to bed. I didn’t want to upset her, so I did what she said,” Zoe says with a shrug, though it is the complete opposite of her emotions.

 

Silence hums in the room. Cordelia sits down with her plate, and Zoe’s pastry pops up. She grabs it with her thumb and forefinger and lays it on a clean plate before going to sit next to Cordelia. The frosting on her PopTart is slightly burnt, but she doesn’t pay much attention to it. They eat absentmindedly, taking tiny bites here and there, not very in the mood for smalltalk.

 

Madison enters the kitchen, rubbing her eyes like a sleepy baby. Her robe is open, revealing a fresher set of pajamas than what she was wearing last night. Immediately upon seeing the girl, Cordelia reaches out for her and brings her closer, plopping her into the other seat beside her. She feels Madison’s forehead and face, which causes Madison to grunt and push away.

 

“Get off me!” Madison cries, catching Delia’s wrist in her hand.

 

“Are you feeling okay?” Cordelia asks.

 

The blonde’s sickly eyes make contact with Zoe’s face, and she sneers at her. Zoe recoils from the burning look and averts her gaze. She hates when Madison is angry with her.

 

“You bitch,” Madison spits towards Zoe. “I told you to fucking leave it alone!”

 

“I was just trying to—“

 

“Shut up! I hate when you do shit like this! You little—“

 

“Madison, that’s enough!” Cordelia cuts in when Zoe’s eyes begin to water.

 

Madison does stop, having wasted most of her energy on yelling at Zoe. Cordelia hums in content before brushing the oily strands of hair in front of Madison’s face behind her ears. Her skin isn’t too warm. It’s quite cold and clammy for her to be alive. She looks fine otherwise, if it weren’t for the rings around her eyelids.

 

“You don’t have a fever. Does anything hurt?” Cordelia asks the young witch.

 

And Madison wants to say everything hurts. Her body aches, her stomach twists inside out, and a stabbing pain drums against her skull. At the same time, she can’t feel anything at all. She’s disconnected from reality and the fact that she’s somehow alive again.

 

“My stomach,” Madison moans, after not responding for a moment.

 

“Have you eaten anything?” The Supreme begins to fuss over her, which is annoying, even to Zoe, who’s been sitting quietly and watching the scene play out as she nibbles on her PopTart.

 

When Madison shrugs one shoulder, Cordelia looks beyond it to Zoe. Biting her lip, Zoe shakes her head, and then Cordelia is up and preparing a plate of scrambled eggs and lightly buttered toast. She puts it down before Madison, and the girl pushes it away from herself, as if it might combust if she touches it.

 

“You need to eat, Madison,” chides Cordelia. “Come on. Just a bite. For me?”

 

“No.”

 

“The reason you’re sick is because you aren’t eating anything,” Cordelia says in an attempt to reason with the frail blonde.

 

“I said I don’t want it!” Madison shouts as she gets up from her seat.

 

“Madison, stop acting out,” Cordelia gently croons to her.

 

“I’m not acting out! I just came here for water and you’re forcing me to do something I don’t want to do! I don’t like being controlled! So leave me alone!”

 

In a flash, Madison is running up the stairs, and a door slams somewhere upstairs, making Zoe flinch. Cordelia sighs and runs a hand over her face before she picks up the abandoned plate of food and looks at Zoe.

 

“She’s coming around.”

 

It’s meant as a sarcastic comment, but truly, Madison’s behavior is a little bit better than before.

 

+++

 

She’s moribund. Madison feels as though she’s no longer part of society, part of this coven. The world passes her by so fast. Days turn into nights and nights into days, until she’s two weeks into her new life. Still, everything remains the way it was, the way it should be, she supposes.

 

Cordelia scheduled her to spend one-on-one time with Misty in the greenhouse to work on her mind control using a rose. Madison complies only because she has nothing else to do but lie in bed in cry until Zoe returns upstairs to work on her paperwork, and her tear ducts have completely run dry now.

 

When she sees Misty, jealousy overtakes Madison. She looks so. . .lively. Her cheeks are perfectly pink to match her lips. Her hair has been combed as well as it can be, and she’s smiling. Madison is unsure of how long she’s been back from her hell, but she’s sure the Cajun is much more advanced regardless of time.

 

“I’m here,” sighs the former star. “What am I doing?”

 

“Hello, Madison,” Misty says with a grin. “I was waitin’ for you. I just want you to change the color of this rose. Cordelia wants to see how your powers have grown.”

 

If she’s being honest with herself, Madison doesn’t know if her powers have grown. She feels weak and ill. What if she fucks up again? She doesn’t want to be yelled at or hit.

 

“How about I light you on fire instead? Much easier for me,” she replies, eyes narrowing.

 

“You’re funny, Hollywood. Now, just try. Everything is ready for you,” Misty encourages, pushing the potted red rose towards her on the table.

 

She does try. She tries her damn hardest, concentrating on the blood red petals until her corneas are dehydrated. Her fists clench in frustration when nothing happens over the course of a full minute. After two, Misty begins to become concerned at the way the shorter woman is angrily glaring at the flower.

 

“Just relax. I think you might be trying too hard,” Misty calmly explains.

 

Madison doesn’t relax. Instead, something flashes in her irises, and the rose ignites, flames growing around the petals and burning them to a crisp. They fall to dust, and Misty shrieks.

 

“Madison!” she cries as she grabs her watering can and douses the rose with it.

 

The once-beautiful plant is now nothing but smoke and ash. Madison steps away from the table, horrified by her own power. Despite knowing she has this ability, she didn’t intend to use it, and Misty’s sour expression is less than a comforting reaction.

 

“Fuck,” Madison curses. “See? I can’t do it. This is just a waste of time.”

 

“No, Madison. It was an accident. Nobody was hurt. It’s not a big deal,” Misty says as she sweeps the burnt petals into a trash bin.

 

“I can’t do it. This is fucking stupid,” Madison says. “It’s useless.”

 

“Stop gettin’ all worked up over it. I have another rose. Do you wanna try again?”

 

Misty takes another potted rose off the shelf and offers it to Madison. It’s bigger, fuller, and it intimidates Madison. Bigger rose means bigger fire. Bigger fire means bigger mess, which means angrier Cordelia. She doesn’t want to be hit again, so she recoils from the plant and turns her head.

 

“Oh, come on, Hollywood,” Misty says with an eye roll. “You’re much better than you think. Try again. If you can’t get it this time, we can take a break.”

 

“I don’t want to. Don’t make me do things I don’t want to. I hate that,” huffs the young woman.

 

The greenhouse door swings open and Cordelia comes in with a friendly smile. In a way, it causes Madison to feel warm and safe, like a child with her mother, and she hates it just as much as she hates lighting the rose on fire.

 

“How’s it going in here?” the Supreme asks before taking a sniff. “What’s that smell?”

 

“She just had a little mishap with the rose. That’s all,” Misty says.

 

“A mishap? What happened?” Cordelia asks, eyebrows raised.

 

“I accidentally set it on fire,” Madison mumbles.

 

“I told ya, it’s okay,” sighs Misty as she toys with a petal.

 

“No. I fucked up again,” Madison whines.

 

“Madison, don’t be so hard on yourself. It takes time. Not everyone gets it right the first few tries. Try again,” Cordelia encourages.

 

Madison shakes her head and refuses to meet either one of their gazes. She can sense their stares burning a hole through her forehead, and she feels the familiar anxiety begin to bubble up inside herself, clenching and tugging at her organs until she can’t breathe.

 

“I don’t want to. I just want to go upstairs and be left alone. Why the hell is that so hard for you to understand?” Madison hisses once she’s found the will to breathe again.

 

“Please stop—“

 

Cordelia’s sentence is cut short by Madison taking off out of the greenhouse, the door slamming shut behind her. Misty doesn’t say anything. Instead, she returns the rose to its place on the shelf.

 

“I don’t know what to do with her,” sighs Cordelia as she leans on the table using her palms. “Every time I try to get her to do something, she gets upset and runs off.”

 

“Maybe she’s struggling with something,” Misty suggests. “She did come back from hell. Ever think she’s traumatized? I saw some awful things down there. Things I don’t want to think about. It’s hell for a reason. Maybe something happened and she was trapped.”

 

“I’m trying to help her,” Cordelia says. “But how can I if she shuts me out? Zoe said Madison was sick a few nights ago, and when I tried to make her eat, she exploded and ran away. I can’t help if she refuses it.”

 

“Delia,” Misty says, wrapping her arms around the older woman’s waist. “Give her time to heal. Let her be angry for awhile. It does take time. If you don’t think she’s improving, just sit and talk to her. Don’t force her to do anything. It seems that’s what upsets her. Lack of control.”

 

Cordelia hums in response, completely melting in Misty’s embrace. She kisses her forehead and pulls her tighter to her body.

 

“How do you know these things?” Cordelia asks.

 

“Been in hell. I know it like my own name.”

 

Maybe Madison doesn’t know her name. She doesn’t know herself. And that’s why everything has been turned upside down. Like the rose, everything has died out, but hopefully another chance will come.

 

+++

 

The night is quieter than a beetle crawling across the floor. The fresh heat and rain have caused humidity and dew to form on the windows overnight. Cicadas sing and chirp outside, nature’s sweet melody to welcome summer home.

 

Inside, everything is anything but sweet. Zoe sleeps soundly, as per usual, but Madison thrashes around in bed, kicking the covers off herself in her sleep as she goes. She turns over on her belly and claws at her pillow, almost ripping the gray fabric to pieces with her nails.

 

She sees nothing but fire around herself. Pain spreads across her arm where she’s been zapped by a man in uniform, and she runs away in humiliation as laughs echo around her. The swell of anxiety consumes her until she’s mad in the head, screeching and throwing towels on the floor. Her otherwise-pale skin is red where she was zapped, sticking out like a sore thumb.

 

Suddenly, the scenery crumbles, and Madison is face-to-face with a man in black. His hair is almost as blond as hers, his eyes are a piercing blue, and he’s smiling at her with pinkish lips, but it’s a wicked smile. She starts to feel colder, and she asks him what he wants, who he is, and why he’s here.

 

He says nothing to her, and instead sidesteps to reveal something—someone—on the ground. Upon closer inspection, Madison recognizes the honey-brown hair splayed out and the petite figure laying still. Zoe.

 

Her heart shoots into her throat as she kneels before the lifeless girl—her sister witch whom she’s been so mean to. She shakes her, crying out her name and apologizing to her, but Zoe doesn’t budge. Her eyes are gently closed as if she’s sleeping, but the lack of breath and heartbeat says otherwise. Madison carefully blows on Zoe’s face, hoping she’s powerful enough, but it’s futile, and Zoe dissolves, too, into dust in Madison’s hands.

 

“Madison,” a voice calls, though it sounds like it’s on land and she’s underwater. “Madison, wake up!”

 

Madison’s eyes snap open and she springs upright in bed. She smacks into a warm body, and arms catch her and bring her close. She attempts to fight whoever it is away, in case it’s that man, but the smell of soap and light perfume engulfs her, and she falls limp.

 

“Shh,” Zoe whispers. “I’m right here. You were having a nightmare. It’s okay. I have you.”

 

Madison continues to cry into Zoe’s shirt. The taller girl keeps her arms locked around the smaller one, carefully rocking her back and forth. Eventually Madison ends up in Zoe’s lap, with Zoe running her fingers through her soft blonde hair.

 

“It was so horrible,” Madison sobs.

 

“You were crying for me. What was the dream about?” asks Zoe.

 

“I—I don’t wanna talk about it,” Madison replies. Her eyes flick up to Zoe. “Will you keep playing with my hair?”

 

Somewhat taken aback by the request, Zoe hesitates, then nods before raking her fingers through the silk again. Madison melts into her touch, feeling comforted, for some odd reason.

 

“Please don’t leave me,” Madison whimpers. “Don’t leave me like everyone else. I know I’m a burden and I don’t deserve anything, but please don’t leave.”

 

Continuing her ministrations, Zoe presses a kiss to the top of Madison’s head. She doesn’t know why she’s begging her not to leave, nor does it matter right now. The only thing that matters is making sure Madison is okay, and if half-assed reassurance accomplishes that, so be it.

 

“I won’t leave you. I promise. Don’t think you’re a burden. You aren’t.”

 

“Yes I am,” Madison sniffles. “I should still be dead. Everything would be better if I was.”

 

Zoe pulls away and takes Madison’s face in her hands to look into her eyes.

 

“Don’t say that. That’s not true,” Zoe assures.

 

“I don’t belong here,” she sobs. “Nobody loves me. It’s like everyone else is happy and doing things and I’m the black sheep. No one gives a shit about dumb Madison. Cordelia favors everyone else. She loves you, Misty, Queenie, and even Mallory! I just got here and she’s sick of me! Everyone is sick of me and I shouldn’t be here!”

 

She’s hysterical now, which frightens Zoe. She’s never known Madison to self-deprecate. If anything, she holds herself with a pompous, self-entitled attitude. But since returning from the underworld, that facade has ceased to exist.

 

“Madison, that’s not true, okay? Cordelia loves you,” Zoe says.

 

“No she doesn’t.” Madison wipes her face and sighs into Zoe’s chest.

 

“She does. She’s always loved you.”

 

“Just forget it. I want to go to sleep,” Madison hisses.

 

Zoe nods in response, not wanting to upset the girl any further, and goes to move Madison from her lap, but the shaking blonde whimpers and grabs hold of her shirt.

 

“Stay. Please?” Madison asks in a small, quite adorable voice.

 

“Okay. Move over.”

 

Sighing in relief, she scoots over to one side of the bed, and Zoe gets on the other. They snuggle under the same comforter and wedge close together to avoid falling off the bed. Zoe resumes toying with Madison’s locks of hair and brushes a kiss over her forehead.

 

“Zoe?” Madison asks.

 

“Yeah, I know. Don’t tell Cordelia.”

 

A comfortable silence falls upon them, and Madison falls asleep first, content in Zoe’s embrace, and then Zoe follows, wondering just how much time she has to save Madison before it’s too late.

 

+++

 

Cordelia and Madison argue again, but this time, Madison has backed herself into a corner, as if she’s afraid of her Supreme.

 

It started out as something small. Madison didn’t bring her laundry downstairs on time and therefore missed her chance for it to be done, which annoyed Cordelia because she relies on her girls to be responsible and punctual.

 

It wouldn’t be a classic Cordelia-Madison fight without the latter getting worked up, and so Madison began to yell louder until Cordelia took a step closer in a menacing, cat-like way. Now Madison has found herself cowering away in the corner of her bedroom, curled in a ball of human flesh and tears. Phantom pain slathers across her cheek, though she knows she’s not been touched.

 

“Madison, you need to stop getting so defensive over nothing,” Cordelia snaps.

 

“You’re yelling at me! How else am I supposed to react?!” Madison cries.

 

“Just talk to me normally, Madison. There’s no need to yell about everything. Stop it right now and stand up,” Cordelia demands as she offers a hand out to the trembling young woman.

 

Madison smacks it away from herself and buries her face in her knees. She feels sick again. She’s not yet eaten all day and her eyes are sunken in. Her head hurts from the crying and shouting, and she just wants to sleep and not wake up until the world is nothing.

 

“Come on, Madison. Stand up and talk to me. What’s going on?” Cordelia kneels before her witch and tries to move her hair, but Madison jerks her head away. “Madison, just look at me.”

 

Finally, Madison finds the strength to look at Cordelia. She’s a blurry figure, but as the tears clear, she sees her Supreme looking at her with concern in her features. There is no more screaming and yelling; no more anger and resentment. Quietness. Stillness. That’s all that remains.

 

“Do you want to tell me what’s actually bothering you?” Cordelia asks. “I’m not going to hurt or scream at you. I promise.”

 

Madison wavers. A faint memory lies in the back of her mind, and she can sustain it somehow. It lingers there and the ghostly ache spreads over her cheek.

 

“I shouldn’t be here,” Madison sobs into her palm. “I should still be in my hell. I don’t deserve to be here. All I do is make you angry.”

 

Cordelia’s frown deepens, and she reaches for the girl to pull her close to her, but Madison yelps and blenches.

 

“Madison, that is not true. You don’t make me angry. I just think you need a bit of guidance to help you through whatever it is you’re going through,” Cordelia assures.

 

“Oh, please,” spits Madison. “I’ve been here for almost a month and I’ve yet to be treated the same as everyone else. You favor all the other girls and I’m always the one that gets the shit end of everything! It’s always been this way!”

 

Cordelia remains still, kneeled on the warm floor, blinking several times as she processes what Madison has told her. Memories of the past couple years come rushing back to her. They’re less than pleasant, but Cordelia can’t recall a time where she truly hated her. Yes, Madison is a handful, but she’s not once allowed it to become a barrier to love her.

 

“Madison, I’m sorry you feel that way,” Cordelia sighs. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. That’s the last thing I wanted for you.”

 

“How come it’s easier for you to love the others and not me? I know I’m hard to handle, but I always feel like you just hate me. You’ve always hated me and I know it.”

 

Madison feels like a child; a scared, lonely child with no friends—not even imaginary ones. Here she is, in the middle of the day, balled up in a corner while crying her eyes out. She’s not drunk or high—she’s not even smoked today. She’s tired and vulnerable, rubbed raw to the point where everything is exposed. Abused is just one way to put it. Miserable is another.

 

“I don’t hate you. I never have. I love you so much, Madison. Those girls downstairs? I love them. And I love you just as much. You aren’t the only one that’s a bit of a handful, you know,” Cordelia chuckles, wiping Madison’s tears with her knuckle. “I’ve opened this home to a lot of witches, and not all of them are perfect versions of children. Some are problematic, some are moody, some have bad attitudes, and some are just downright mean. But it’s okay. I don’t hate any one of them. Instead, I try to help them grow. I love them regardless of who they are or what they’ve done. Madison, we are all here to help each other and live as one. I’m sorry that you feel left out. I didn’t mean to make you feel that way.”

 

Madison’s crying has subsided. Her emotions begin to evenly distribute throughout her body, enough to calm her down. Sighing in relief, Cordelia sits next to the shaking girl and allows her to lean on her.

 

“I never wanted you to feel out of place,” Cordelia murmurs. “I think I was shocked. When Misty came back months ago, I spent weeks wondering if it was real. Then you came back and I was nothing but worried for you. You looked so sick and tired, but you pushed me away, so I left you alone. I didn’t mean for you to take offense to it. And I don’t want you to be alone. But how can I help if you don’t open up?”

 

Madison fidgets with her thumbs, and Cordelia wraps a careful arm around her frail body and pulls her closer. This time, Madison doesn’t reject it. Instead, she welcomes it and nestles into Cordelia’s breastbone.

 

“I’m sorry,” whimpers Madison. “I just want to be treated like everyone else. I’m jealous. Everyone seems so happy. And I’m not.”

 

“You need to heal first, and I will be right here the entire way. You’ve been through something horrible, and I want you to know that it won’t always be this way. My door is always open for you. If you’re scared or want to talk, you can come to me, even in the middle of the night. Understood?” Cordelia asks.

 

With a nod, Madison sniffles and wipes her face one last time. Cordelia wraps her arms tightly around her little witch and cradles her, placing a kiss on her head.

 

“I love you, Madison.”

 

A small smile forms on Madison’s pink lips. “I love you, too, Cordelia.”

 

+++

 

It’s the middle of summer, the most dreadful part of year for the witches. Everything is hot and muggy. Even the insects are recoiling in disgust.

 

Madison and Zoe lay in one bed, clad in shorts and tank tops to fight the heat. They both have their hair tied up in tight ponytails. Their blankets are gone, deposited somewhere at the foot of the bed long ago. Zoe plays with Madison’s hair, an action that always pacifies the latter when she’s upset or irritable.

 

“It’s so quiet,” Madison mumbles.

 

“Thankfully. I’m so happy Cordelia decided to send the girls home for the summer. They were really starting to get on my nerves. Even though I love them,” Zoe says with a breathy laugh.

 

It’s true that the house has been quiet for a few weeks. For the first time, Cordelia called for a mandatory summer break for every witch in the coven. Most went home, but a few stayed behind, only to become bored. Zoe and Queenie have received their much deserved break, which means that Madison has Zoe all to herself for the whole summer.

 

“When are we gonna tell Cordelia about us?” Madison asks as she kisses Zoe’s hand.

 

“When she finally admits to being with Misty.”

 

“So, never?” Madison jokes, grinning up at Zoe with the cutest expression.

 

Zoe laughs and kisses her cheek, tickling her sides a little to make her giggle. Madison lets her stone-cold facade vanish when she’s around Zoe, and it’s a refresher for them both. She’s done well in her healing so far, and Zoe can say she’s proud of her.

 

“I’m so bored,” groans Madison as she flops over on her back after she’s caught her breath from laughing so hard. “Maybe it was a bad idea for Cordelia to send them away. There’s no one here to pick on.”

 

“Hmm,” Zoe hums in thought. She pushes herself into a sitting position before smiling at Madison. “Wanna play your favorite game?”

 

“I don’t have a favorite game.”

 

“Yes you do. It starts like this.” Zoe pokes Madison’s belly button and jumps off the bed. “Tag.”

 

“No fair! Come back here!” Madison yells as she rolls off the bed and chases Zoe down the stairs.

 

They pass Cordelia and Misty making goo-goo eyes at each other as they run out of the house, laughing like children. At first glance, Cordelia finds it to be pretty innocent, and then she hears Madison shout “tag!”, and her heart drops.

 

“Delia, don’t start gettin’ all worried,” Misty warns.

 

“I’ll be back.”

 

Cordelia goes to the front yard where she saw the two girls heading, and finds them running around the lawn, chasing each other in circles. Zoe catches up to Madison and taps her shoulder.

 

“Tag! Come and get me!” she laughs.

 

“Girls, please be careful! No transmutation!” Cordelia calls from the porch.

 

“We aren’t!” Zoe replies.

 

While the brunette is distracted by Cordelia, Madison grabs her and gives her a kiss on the lips. This stuns Cordelia and her eyes widen. Misty, who’s just in time to watch the revelation, snickers at Delia’s bewildered expression.

 

“God, Delia! You act like you didn’t see it coming,” Misty laughs.

 

“I didn’t. . .”

 

Nevertheless, the two blonde witches sit nestled on their porch swing as they watch the two younger ones run around. Cordelia pretends she doesn’t notice that they’re barefoot, until Madison cries out in pain and inspects her foot.

 

“Holy shit, Maddie!” Zoe exclaims. “You stepped on a nail!”

 

Rolling her eyes, Misty gets off the swing and examines the nasty wound on the sole of Madison’s right foot.

 

“Jesus, Hollywood! You’re just now lookin’ lively and then you go and get a damn nail in your foot! C’mon, let’s go fix you up,” Misty says, helping a crying Madison to the greenhouse, Zoe hot on her heels.

 

After a quite painful fix-up, Madison is bed-bound with her leg propped up for the rest of the day, as per Cordelia’s demand, but Zoe is there to keep her company. She’s always there.

 

“Have you had any nightmares lately?” Zoe suddenly asks Madison as they’re flipping through a magazine.

 

Madison hesitates, folding a corner of a page. “Uh. . .no. Not really. It doesn’t matter anyway. I’m fine.”

 

Zoe wants to argue and say it does matter, however, she notices the natural blush on her girlfriend’s cheeks and the way her lips twitch when she fights a smile. She feels the warmth and the steady heartbeat, and from now on, she knows Madison is truly alive. She’s here, with her, and aside from an injured foot, she’s okay.

 

Madison feels the changes happening to her every day, and some are uncomfortable. She’s warmer now. The cold faded away some time ago. Nightmares come and go as they please, and she watches Zoe burn over and over again, though she’s able to contain it now. And every time, she wakes in the arms of the one she loves, safe and whole.

 

She’s not yet finished healing, nor will she be for awhile, but she feels it. With each day, she grows and recovers from the pain, and though the anxiety of Zoe turning to dust or Cordelia falling ill cripples her, she pushes through.

 

She just hopes that, when all is said and done and the world comes to an end, she burns with her coven, her sisters, her love, her family.

 

Hell was not working retail. It never was. Hell was having to live each day without knowing if she would see her family again. Thanks to a little witch bitch named Mallory, she is finally home, and everything just might be okay.

 

Eventually, Madison doesn’t see Zoe die ever again.


End file.
